Things I Said I’d Never Do As a Parent (And How Fast I Ate Those Words)

Pre-kid me was an absolute delight. So full of opinions, so many options. I didn’t want kids, per se, but decidedly, I was going to be an excellent mother, should I ever end up with kids. “My children will eat what I cook.” “Screen time will be limited and educational.” “I will never bribe my child.”

Narrator: She bribed her child.

Here is a partial, deeply humbling list of things I swore I’d never do:

“I’ll never use the TV as a babysitter.”

The TV has babysat. The tablet has babysat. A gameboy, an Ipod, an Apple watch on a couple of occassions…. A YouTube video about a guy making incredibly detailed sand art has babysat for 47 minutes while I sat in the bathroom on the tub floor with the curtain drawn, hoping my children wouldn’t locate me too quickly. I have zero regrets.

“My kids will eat vegetables without a fight.”

My child once cried for twenty minutes because Brussel’s Sprouts were “everywhere” on his plate. Not because they had to eat all of it, but because I put it there… They like lettuce, so they eat lots of spinach, kale, romaine… anything outside of that is a fight. nothing creamy is allowed to touch these leafy delicacies either…. My kids are picky. They try stuff, many things over a dozen times, and they hate the flavor, texture or general vibe and I grab some dry greens and tomatoes and make peace with the lack of variety.

“I won’t negotiate with a seven-year-old.”

I have negotiated bedtime, shoe-wearing, the direction a sandwich is cut, and the virtues of classifying rice as a hate group, because my kids think that, along with bacon, melted cheese, potatoes, broccoli and anything creamy should be considered the worst things ever to befall humanity.

The Part Where I Get Real With You

Parenting is the longest exercise in letting go of who you thought you’d be. The sooner you laugh at yourself, the better. Pre-kid you had no idea what was coming — and that’s probably for the best. Even the early momming version of myself silently judged the woman with four kids on four devices at the pediatrician’s office when I went with my newborn. Now, that woman is my hero. She flew solo with FOUR KIDS to a pediatrician’s office. Someone give that woman an award.

If your ideas have changed and you’re willing to admit sometimes it’s okay to fail upwards (or laterally), Welcome to the club, you’re in good company.